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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724639">Moonside Lake Lounge</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brim/pseuds/Brim'>Brim</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Undone by the Blood [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bloodborne (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Epistolary, Gen, Ghosts, Murder Mystery, master willem and his wacky woohoo students adventure</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:14:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724639</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brim/pseuds/Brim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A story from Runesmith Caryll's youth spent in Byrgenwerth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caryll &amp; Master Willem (Bloodborne), Caryll &amp; Rom the Vacuous Spider (Bloodborne)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Undone by the Blood [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>relatively speaking, I think it counts as canon compliant</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Byrgenwerth, August 12<sup>th</sup> 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Dear Caryll,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>         It has been so long since our last letter correspondence, more for want of something to communicate rather than of inclination, and I am sure in spite of all past entreaties and complaints, you have much worse correspondents with your fellow students at Byrgenwerth, if Rom’s words are to believed. But as for myself, I am content to hear quite regularly from your guardians about your state and wellbeing and even more glad to hear about your speedy recovery. I regret that you were not able to come and join us for our little expedition to the seaside, but I genuinely believe that there will be opportunities in the future.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Which brings me to the main topic of this letter and the reason I have opted to write to you this early – to offer you my apologies, but also a request. I would be obliged to you if you would attend as a speaker at the Opening Ceremony this year. There are few students I see fit for the honors and none are more than you, if you were to indulge me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         More often than not, I find myself regretful of the tragic accident in the past, but I do sincerely pray that our little debacle has not stomped your enthusiasm and would not turn you away from your research. I also pray that you have it in your heart to forgive me for my past transgressions against you, Caryll. As my student, the worst thing I can do is to betray your trust, but as a teacher and a fellow scholar, the most horrific act would be that that my careless actions were to turn away a bright mind from this pursuit of knowledge and revelation.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Well, I have spoken more than enough and I hope that we may meet at the Ceremony on the 1<sup>st</sup> of October. And If not, then at least in my lectures. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>         Best Regards,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Willem</em>
</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>“It’s good to see you here, Caryll.”</p><p>      Caryll doesn’t turn away from the scene below them, instead tries to appear almost casual, as opposed to tense, in the way they lean their forearms against the wooden railings. “And your tone is as if you’re surprised to see me here.”</p><p>      Rom’s lips tilt upwards and her smile widens. The two of them were perched up on the second floor of Byrgenwerth’s largest lecture hall. With muted interest, they watched the numerous new students shuffle into the hall for the opening ceremony in a cacophony of agitated chatter. Despite the gloomy autumn weather outside, everyone’s uniforms were crisp and pristine and many of the students strutted between the rows with apparent pride, getting acquainted with their fellows.</p><p>      Every year, there was a new selection of baby-faced opportunists and future scholars. Excited, but frail, gaunt creatures appearing much like newly hatched chicks, struggling to break free of the constraints of their shell with claws and beaks, so that they may flap their wings and reach the skies once day.</p><p>“Why are you here and not down there?” They gesture with a hand towards the podium, where Master Willem, alongside a few other teachers and senior students are shuffling from seat to seat like a game of musical chairs. “I thought you would be opening the year with a speech.”</p><p>“Oh, I expected the same of you,” Rom speaks in an even, calm tone. “I was actually, but upon sending my speech for review, Master Willem did not permit it.”</p><p>      Caryll’s lips nervously twitched into a tiny smile of their own. “Mentioning a supposed murderer in our ranks would be bad public perception?”</p><p>      It was hard not to notice the peculiar gloom, which branded the senior students – although the new <em>hatchlings</em> were still oblivious, the older ones whispered gossip about the mysterious disappearances of fellow students. Starting from the previous year’s second semester, the cases only stopped when the school year ended and with the mystery left unsolved, many anxiously wondered whether the disappearances would continue.</p><p>      Caryll, for the most part, was very pessimistic and had little doubt that the terror would continue.</p><p>“Hiding it is pointless vanity.” Rom shrugged. “I’m certain that our more mature and responsible colleagues would inform the newcomers all about the ongoings of Byrgenwerth.” Her lower lip protruded in a sulky pout. “Master Willem is worrying unduly.”</p><p>“As he was with me?”</p><p>      Rom’s expression turns serious now. “Nobody except trusted few knows about what happened to you—what’s really in the depths below.” She sighed and leaned her forearms on the railings as well, fingers drumming on the old wood softly, idly. Nervously. “What they don’t know, wouldn’t hurt them.”</p><p>“Yes, I can see the appeal of would be murder mystery amidst the students, rather than something unknown kidnapping students below us.”</p><p>      Caryll rolled their eyes and straightened their back. Below them, the teachers finally decided on their spots on the small podium and now Master Willem was speaking. His voice was low, but upon opening his mouth, the cacophony of students promptly hushed themselves, so that the room was brought to a grave silence, except for the Provost’s archaic speech echoing in the large lecture hall. Byrgenwerth was a place of learning—and it seemed like one of the first things the students had to learn was <em>patience</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“Welcome to your school, your campus and your home for the next few years. I already know some of you, but most of you are new faces. Congratulations, you are all scholars of Byrgenwerth now, and it is my dearest hope, that together we may reach new heights.” </em>
</p><p>“You are concerned?” Caryll guesses.</p><p>“Well yes,” Rom confessed and gave them a look. “There is something amiss—are you not curious as well?”</p><p>“Curious, but not concerned,” Caryll clarified. “Do you think it’s something accursed from the depths below—or man-made tragedies?”</p><p>“Man-made, I would presume,” She answered plainly. “But the goal and reasons are lost to me. Its senseless…murder.”</p><p>“We don’t know that,” Caryll grimaced. “It is man’s talent to make sense of the senseless.”</p><p>      Rom laughed – it was a light, feathery sound. Pleasant and calming. “Of course, my apologies.” She says, gently. “And what of you? Are you concerned?”</p><p>“Of course,” They confirm. “We have a killer among us students, perhaps even a group of them—that would be a cause of worry for anyone with their sanity still intact.”</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>      21<sup>st</sup> of March, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Today was our first expedition into the dungeons below us. I was quite excited to venture out, partly because it was refreshing to stretch our legs out for once, instead of laboring away in the musty lecture halls and libraries. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Well my enthusiasm however quickly deflated when we met the old guard leading our expedition. The guards look archaic, with rusted weapons and rugged coats, they appeared very much like a warlock from fantasy—or folklore, and they acted the part as well! They filled the chalice with thick blood and with that, a dark, ancient passage was uncovered. Unfortunately, they were very strict and stiff regarding our ability to explore. I am certain that if they were allowed to, they would chain us down, so that we don’t stray from view. Annoying, really. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      The dungeons themselves were naught much to note either. As a regular member to the Lounge, this was a precious privilege to be allowed this deep into the dungeons, but there was nothing to see, let alone learn that we didn’t already known from Master Willem. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>….</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>      15<sup>th</sup> of April, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      I haven’t written in a while and my hands are trembling with excitement as I document this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      The Pthumerians’ old structures were certainly interesting to see from an architectural point of view. Statues which looked very much like those common in Yharnam were all over the walls, but there were many odd latches and gaps. The crudely carved passage also confused me, until a fellow colleague proposed the idea that there were hidden passageways, that go deeper into the dungeons. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      By the Gods, he is correct! Perhaps not now, for Master Willem is quite vigilant over access to the dungeons, but I pray that we may return soon, so that we can uncover its secrets. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Until then, me and my fellow colleagues from the Lounge have been playing the part of a well-behaved students. A fellow named Gehrman, one year my senior, has opted to play as our group’s guard dog. I don’t trust him for he is an anti-social, shrewd type of guy, but nevertheless, since I am here to write this entry, I can say with full confidence that at least he fulfilled his obligations well. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Odd beasts and shadows lurk the hallways the deeper we venture, but against the bulk of us, they stand no chance.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>      27<sup>th</sup> of April, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      I have done it, all thanks to my fellow peers allowing me the precious cover to sneak away from the guards.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Upon venturing deeper into the dungeons I found something quite peculiar. Runes. Etched into the walls, or scribbled onto old parchment. Odd shapes seemingly imprinting onto my very brain the more I stare at them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Master Willem taught us that runes were the uttered words of the Great Ones, but what do they mean! What words do the Great ones have to tell us?! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      I must look further into this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>      Caryll turns to Rom and tries to smile wider, but fails – they’ve been trying to get that polite smile right for days and every time they try, it comes out as a lopsided, insincere mess. Some few weeks into the year, Caryll was invited to a meeting at the private lounge, positioned next to the Moonside Lake and against their better judgement, they attended.</p><p>“Caryll.” Master Willem regarded them briefly with a studying look, before turning back to the rest of the students all piled on the old sofas, so much so that they looked like overflowing. The Lounge wasn’t particularly big and while few people were allowed during its late-night meetings, some would physically push and fight each other, so that they may sit closer to Master Willem. It was a little club of exclusivity – where only those students most earnest and of distinguished honors were allowed to attend its meetings.</p><p>      Rom squeezed their hand reassuringly and they sighed deeply, gave a silent look of gratitude towards her.</p><p>“Let us proceed with today’s lesson.” Master Willem started. A student almost fell over, when they tried to sit in a comfortable enough position to write properly. Meanwhile, in Caryll’s efforts to appear obscured behind a tank full of odd remains excavated from the dungeons, they realized that they could barely hear anything. Rom, whom was seated next to them whispered an offer to switch seats, but they shook their head.</p><p>“It’s a boring lesson, the same as last year.” Rom reassured them, but Caryll was firm. </p><p>“You need not coddle me, Rom.”</p><p>“But you are my friend and I want to.” She answered with a soft giggle and immediately stilled in shock, when she saw Master Willem glaring at her. Both promptly returned to their writings, a guilty look on their face. At one point during the lesson, Rom slipped them a note on torn paper and Caryll stared at it until the rest of the class, Master Willem’s muttering having turned into soft ambience, as they felt a grappling fear, but also <em>excitement</em>.</p><p>
  <em>      Caryll, there is no shame in returning to your research.</em>
</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>[Except from: Article XIV of the science journal “The Cosmic Observer”—Essay on the “Great Ones Communication and the Ancient Blood Echoes”, from Caryll, student and assistant to Provost Willem, Byrgenwerth. 1835.]</p><p> </p><p>      The ancient, twisting undergrounds below Yharnam have been the subject of exploration for most of known history and culture. Gratuitous and fanciful theories, disclaiming all dependence upon experiments, began, very soon after the study was introduced, to bend it in subservience to a sort of philosophical faction. Truths of the highest concern became involved in archeological disputes, and the sacred history of revelation, the inspired account of the design and progress of evolution, was called into question in the arbitrary explanations of their natural appearances.</p><p>“Caelesti sumus omnes semine oriundi.”</p><p>      Our ambitions can be linked back to the ancient civilization of the Phtumerians, where most of their architectural structures and achievements make up the very shape of Yharnam itself. However, their failures – the fall of their own civilization, haunts and chains us to our fears of being inadequate and unworthy, when it comes to our merit of Greatness. Humanity in itself is already a flawed, frail state of existence and our desire to evolve past the limits of our mortal coils is a mission for perseverance, but also our survival as a race.</p><p>      Thus the title of our quest for guidance became, in many instances, synonymous with deist, and a kind of unholy stain polluted the birth of this infant science. The zeal of some who undertook to defend, upon their adversaries' ground, the tenets of their faith, was not less injurious to science, and was more detrimental to the cause which they espoused. They, in their turn, invented hypothetical explanations of appearances, and distorted both facts and reasoning to answer their particular purpose. The refutation of these zealous absurdities was easy, but there are always those who are ready to confound the credit of a righteous cause with the imbecility of its advocates.</p><p>      But to play the devil’s advocate, their concerns are not entirely unfound – the idea of communicate with Great Ones, might seem absurd in by itself, for we cannot coherently perceive, let alone understand them and judging by our history of past tragedies, recorded since times before Cainhurst itself, they cannot understand us as well. However, to think that communication between us is impossible is incomprehensible and incorrect – with the discovery of runes and their meanings, we are one step closer to achieving our goal.</p><p>      The first observations of runes were rude and accidental, as must be the case with all new studies before the process of spontaneous development begins. Gradual discoveries of dungeons led to profounder observations and concrete conclusions. System and order arise in the place of confusion, not such as belong to the products of fancy and the visions of possibility but to the forms of reality and the objects of the senses.</p><p>      One of the first observations and discovered runes was a set of runes, which are related to large bodies of water and as most scholars would know, places such as seas or lakes, are believed to be linked to the Great Ones and their resting place. Great Deep Sea, Great Lake and others of the sort are calming, peacefully flowing runes that soothe the mind in the way they paint a grand picture. Almost, encouragingly, not quite unlike the way the old blood transforms us. </p><p>      There is something more than beautiful in the correspondence of this explanation of the appearances of nature. The spirit of the Great Ones, indeed, moved upon the face of the waters; the powers of affinity, which we are never tired of admiring in our closets in a small scale, were let loose in the great deep, and dry land appeared, the product of the new combinations. But further still, in the relics of a former world deep below the great ocean, preserved to us in the absence of time and cut away from its eroding power, we may trace the order and succession of the creation of organic forms, as recorded in the same history.</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>      The hallways’ benches, with the constant influx of students and noisy chatter as they moved between lecture halls, were not the ideal place for studying, but to Caryll, it created a pleasant ambience, a buzz to kill the near-constant, distracting sound of water in their head.</p><p>
  <em>Plin. Plop. Plin. Plop.</em>
</p><p>      They were seated down on the floor, leaning against the wall in one of the small corners, completely in their own world and immersed on the writings of the text, <em>Arcane Life of the Deep</em> - an article from a foreign university about odd deposits and ancient formations found on the pelagic sediment, when they heard footsteps come closer until they stopped right in front of them. Caryll looked up from their book and saw a strange, yet familiar-looking youth – they remembered seeing his face in the crowd at the opening ceremony, <em>perhaps one of the first-year student?</em></p><p>“My name is Laurence,” He began and Caryll nodded their head slowly in acknowledgment, once they stood up on their feet and then studied the youth. He looked well-groomed, with only the faintest dark circles under his bright eyes—in a sea of dim looks, his eyes shone brightly like the moon on a clear night. “I haven’t had coffee in a long time, perhaps you would like to join me?”</p><p>“Don’t you have classes?”</p><p>      Laurence smiled at them. “You needn’t worry about that.”</p><p>      Byrgenwerth’s cafeteria was a depressingly small, dingy room with a high ceiling, dirty windows covered by light curtains, a single counter paired with an old, beaten up iron oven used for brewing, four tables carved up with various profanities and philosophical thoughts by past students and rotting, wooden benches. An old newspaper with a long gossip article about the Cainhurst royal family was used as a makeshift tablecloth. It paled in comparison to the grandiose main dining hall where most students ate, but this room offered a more secluded environment to discuss things of a more private matter.</p><p>      Caryll sat back and waited patiently for Laurence to return, unsure of what to make of this random turn of events – other students sought them for favors in the past, but this was the first time a new student was bold enough to approach them.</p><p>“I was uncertain of your preferences, so I brought everything.” Laurence said when he returned with a tray and they thanked him. His coffee was about as disgusting as Caryll expected, when they saw how murky it was, but they tried their best not show it. Both sipped their drink in peaceful silence for a few minutes, until Laurence set his cup down and <em>stared</em> at them.</p><p>“I have read plenty of your articles,” He started, tone careful, while Caryll’s expression remained completely blank. “Especially your ones about runes and their origin. Your specialty I would presume?” They nodded their head slowly, fully aware that their reputation precedes them and judging by the way Laurence regarded them with near unblinking interest, he was fully aware of their academic achievements as well. A respected scholar and writer—a young prodigy leading the field of runesmith. “But also your arguments about neuroethics, when it comes to deep brain stimulation for the sake of research.”</p><p>      Caryll crossed their arms and leaned back on their seat. “And treatment.”</p><p>“Yes, that as well,” Laurence nodded emphatically. “You’ve written a lot about how limited our senses are when it comes to understanding things as the Phtumerians did, such as your article from last year, what was it called again?” He paused in deep thought, trying to recall it as Caryll remained still in awkward silence. “Oh yes, it was <em>Ophthalmology and Runes</em>!”</p><p>      Caryll tried hard not to wince – it was one of their earliest articles, with an unnecessary long and poetic foreword, convoluted defense and a hastily put together conclusion to end it all. Needless to say, it was not their proudest work.</p><p>
  <em>      Normally, the retina receives the image that the cornea focused through the eye’s internal lens and transforms this image into electrical impulses that are carried by the optic nerve to the brain. However, when it comes to runes it is not that simple, because the influx of information overwhelms our senses and when we are severely stressed, high levels of adrenaline in the body can cause pressure on the eyes, resulting in blurred vision. Therefore, we need to rely on our hearing as well as our sight, to—</em>
</p><p>“There are some articles I need to revisit, since I don’t think they would hold to public scrutiny that well.” They confessed bashfully.</p><p>“Well, nobody has stepped forward thus far.” Laurence frowned, appearing somewhat upset. It seemed that his interest in all of this was genuine, but Caryll knew that this wasn’t the only reason he was here – they were self-aware enough to know that they made themselves to be a poor conversation partner. “There was another pleasant read about—”</p><p>“You can omit the courtesies and pleasantries and get straight to the point, as to why you approached me. I can see it in your eyes, that you’re here with a goal and not just endless mummery.”</p><p>      Laurence gave them a flat look and then leaned back into his seat.</p><p>“I’ve discovered a rune,” He said, tone now more even and serious, but not without the soft, soothing undertones it carried. “In the dungeons. I am hoping that you could help me identify it.” In turn, Caryll frowned.</p><p>“Many students bring me odd scratches and drawings they’ve found in the dungeons. Some even opt to prank each other by inscribing runes onto old parchment themselves.” They said. “What makes you think this is different?”</p><p>“Oh, you will see,” Laurence’s lips curled into a small smile. “I am certain that this is something of interest to you.” He dug through his robe’s pocket and pulled out a neat parchment, unfolded it and presented it to them.</p><p>      Caryll leaned forward and squinted their eyes as they tried to read it. The copied rune looked like a jagged line with six uneven fingers. It appeared very similar a rune they’ve encountered in the past, but the subtle differences were big enough to pique their interest. Meanwhile, Laurence was back to staring at them with open interest.</p><p>“Well, it’s badly inscribed,” They commented drily and Laurence’s lips twitched slightly, but otherwise his expression remained unchanged. “However, although familiar to a different one, I haven’t seen a rune quite like this. Where’s the original?”</p><p>      He pulled out another, more faded piece of parchment and gave it to them. Caryll bit their lower lip – it was indeed a different rune, and a new one at that. The claw was more neatly defined now, more concrete and terrifying. It also did appear similar to the Clawmark rune, they recalled, but that rune was an intoxicating invitation, while this one was—grim and horrid. They felt their stomach twist in dread, but prevailed through the uncomfortable feeling, as they continued studying it.</p><p>“I need a moment to see.”</p><p>“Of course.” Laurence’s expression was more subdued now, but he was practically and literally sitting on the edge of his seat as he waited.</p><p>      Caryll closed their eyes and <em>searched</em>. They found it only a few years prior, but their mind was like a river, connected to the vast sea—where water drips, even at the depths below, deep as the bottom of the ocean. There, they found odd shape, but mostly sounds.</p><p>“Caryll, stay with me.”</p><p>      A familiar voice calls to them with stern reassurance—an unknown island to latch onto for surface in order to avoid getting drowned in the foreign mutterings, which bend and bleed into their mind and reveal their ancient meanings in the shape of runes.</p><p>“What is happening? Where are you?”</p><p>      There was a vague shape of something monstrous right beneath their feet. It looked as if the only thing that separated them from it was thin, murky glass. Caryll grew tense with fear- normally, their revelations did not terrify them as much. They tried to look away, keep the dreadful thing away from sight and out of mind, but the voice urged them to look.</p><p>“What is there below you?” The more the voice talked, the more it blended into the monster’s growls, until Caryll could no longer differentiate what was human and what was beast.</p><p>      Suddenly, that thing reached out to grab and drag them to depths below and they—</p><p>      Caryll inhaled sharply and their eyes snapped open. They awakened in a cold sweat, the fabric of their shirt sticking to their back and they were shivering so much they would have fallen off their chair. Looking down, they noticed that the only thing preventing them from collapsing was the fact that they were grasping—<em>clinging</em> onto Laurence’s warm hand. The latter appeared completely unbothered by the intimate act, eyes entirety fixated, almost bearing into Caryll with a burning intensity.</p><p>“What did you see?” He asked tone careful, rubbing a thumb over the back of their hand soothingly.</p><p>“I saw,” They swallowed hard and after a brief moment of indulging in the calming sensation, pulled their hand back. “I saw shapes…and sound. But there was something—something vile dragging me away.” They exhaled and tried to relax, ease their labored breathing. Meanwhile, Laurence regarded them with a cautious look.</p><p>“Did you see what it was?” They shook their head. “That’s unfortunate.” Laurence felt disappointed, but not enough to actually show it and instead he focused back on them as their breathing evened out.</p><p>      Having noticed the stare and despite themselves, their voice came off as shaky. “What?”</p><p>“Is that your talent?” Laurence inquired and Caryll looked away in an effort to escape the prying gaze.</p><p>“No,” They mumbled “It’s…how the mind works. Everyone’s, in fact. However, I suppose I am just more sensitive when it comes to our connection to—to the greater depths.”</p><p>      Laurence’s lips thinned, appearing skeptical. “So, you’re claiming that everyone can derive meaning from them like you do?”</p><p>“Yes, yes! You can see it, but you cannot <em>perceive</em> it,” Laurence gave them a blank stare in answer and Caryll just sighed. “Look, when you look at this rune, what can you read from it?” They slid the parchment towards him. Laurence leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips in thought.</p><p>“I see—,” He paused and frowned. “There is a center point from which multiple routes start,” He offered, voice not entirely confident in his answer. He touched his mouth thoughtfully and tried to focus again. “Perhaps…a hand—or a claw? But of <em>what</em>?”</p><p>      Caryll sighed again. Closing their eyes, they could see it—the blood, the sea, the horrible, unpleasant presence lurking below its murky depths. They could perceive it, but their imagination did not allow them to see the vile creature in full.</p><p>      Their eyes snapped open once more and they realized that they were shaking again, one hand gripping the edges of the table for support. Caryll’s breath shuddered, as they inhaled deeply and Laurence could only answer with a confused look, wondering whether he should hold their hand again.</p><p>“Are you alright?” He asked instead and Caryll nodded.</p><p>“Where did you find this rune?” Their eyes narrowed on him in suspicion. He opened his mouth and then stopped, stared at Caryll and considered.</p><p>“In the dungeons, as I’ve said.” He said plainly.</p><p>“Which dungeon?”</p><p>      Laurence hesitated to answer. He was hiding something and Caryll could see the inner conflict in his eyes quite clearly – an internal debate about fear of repercussions for being discovered, against the odds of him jeopardizing a breakthrough, due to withholding facts. Eventually, Laurence relented and simply said it.</p><p>“Lower Loran.”</p><p>“But that place is forbidden,” They immediately gasped in shock. “It’s too dangerous to go there!”</p><p>      Laurence rolled his eyes. “The halls were deserted. I barely encountered anything that can be considered alive, let alone dangerous.”</p><p>“Does Master Willem know?” Caryll’s tone turned stern and Laurence huffed.</p><p>“He does actually,” He leaned forward, rests his elbows on the table and tents his fingers. “In fact, I went in there per his request. It was …a test, if you will.”</p><p>      A horrifying realization dawned on Caryll and they felt like they were slapped – Master Willem’s promises and words of apologies about not going too far and endangering others were all empty words, when history just repeats itself. In fact, they could picture it quite clearly.</p><p>
  <em>      The Provost’s dingy office, the stale air and a bright-eyed student wandering around lost, yet curious between tall bookcases, displays of ancient artifacts and jars full of viscera, while the Master Willem was seated by his desk, watching them with rapt interest, content to lure another—promising to this innocent youth thing such as enlightenment and godhood.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Laurence, our minds are still weak to the Truth, but that is not a reason to despair. Instead, we must seek guidance from the Great Ones. Their words are to be welcomed and celebrated, not feared.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Only for then to just abandoned them, just like—</em>
</p><p>“I don’t appreciate being treated as his wayward errand boy, but—” Laurence says casually and leaned back, crossing his legs and drumming on his leg absently, as he’s looking down. “I would be caught in a lie, if I were to say that this hasn’t been beneficial.” Caryll gave him a look and he continued. “There is something—something below us. It’s not a beast, or a monster, but something else…And Master Willem either doesn’t know, or refuses to tell me.”</p><p>“Perhaps it is better kept that way,” Caryll said tersely. “For your benefit.” They added and saw Laurence look up and <em>glare</em> at them. They shrank back in their seat upon being meet with such open hostility and perhaps, realizing his slip-up, Laurence’s expression eased into something somewhat apologetic, but also pitying.</p><p>“I’ve heard that there was an accident in the past,” Laurence made a small pause, when he saw the way Caryll grew tense. Rom reassured them that only a few people knew about what happened to them—<em>was it another lie?</em> “I do not know the details, but—”</p><p>      Caryll swallowed hard and tuned out the sound of his voice. For that brief moment, there were no sounds in the cafeteria except for the distant sound of dripping water—its ambience preference to whatever convenient lie Master Willem fed Laurence.</p><p>“You need not play his messenger either,” Caryll said eventually, tone cold and Laurence simply nodded. “I’m certain that your loyalty to Master Willem will be rewarded one day, but a word of advice is…don’t be blind to his true nature.” Laurence’s head tilted slightly, considering, but otherwise his expression was unreadable.</p><p>“I see,” He said, tone monotone. “I apologize for taking your time then. Thank you for your help, Caryll.”</p><p>      Laurence stood up and cleared the table, Caryll having given up on their half-drank, by then cold coffee.</p><p>…</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>      20th of May, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Miss Raina at the faculty of history was very helpful, when I approached the subject about the peculiar runes we spotted in the recently uncovered antechamber. The most interest aspect was the prevalent trace they had left in our culture. Indeed, I have seen many similar shapes all around Yharnam, and my skin itches with excitement to uncover their meanings, and so do my fellow peers from the Lounge. In fact, our findings have been our biggest obsession as if late, and I have felt joy like none other to engage in conversation with them about it and exchange ideas. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      In any case, Miss Raina’s insight was deeply appreciated, but unfortunately not enough to satisfy our needs. She recommends that I speak to Caryll, Master Willem’s assistant, if I have further inquiries, because that is their specialty. They are more secluded individuals, but I feel myself getting my hopes up to procure a specialist for our case. </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh boy,<br/>thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!!</p><p>- the dates ordeal - there's books in gehrmans workshop with dates such as 1872 on them and I dont really regard them strictly and bb timeline of event is extremely convoluted, and while I do have an idea how it went down, Im mostly putting down dates to make the articles/letter look real and somewhat to mark story flow, but dont regard them too deeply, its for f u n</p><p>- english isnt my first language, so I dont know what the hell I wrote in the letters and articles, tbh. pretty sure when english teachers made us write letters for practice, they didnt mean me using that knowledge in this way, but here we are</p><p>- I know theres a better way to format this, but also I dont know how it works and I am lazy, so Im using the good old way of manually pressing tab a few thousand times</p><p>chuckles, I have a laurence brain disease</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Central Yharnam, September 1<sup>st</sup>, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>         Dear Master Willem: I have treated you very badly in not writing sooner, but the truth is I have been so hard put for time that I have not been able to do so. Your letter reached me only now, because I was away from Yharnam on behest of my family who saw fit to send me away for the holidays. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Furthermore, will you allow me in a few plain and simple words, to respectfully decline your invitation to deliver a speech on the 1<sup>st</sup> of October. You and I are both aware that I am dreadfully unfit to be a public speaker and it would pain me greatly to take away the opportunity from another student, more fit for the honorable position, but moreso I still feel uncomfortable at the thought of facing the weight of Byrgenwerth’s expectations. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Yes, I have had many thoughts over the past happenings throughout the course of this summer and to be frank with you, I fear that it will not be in my power to aid you as I did with respect to the exploration of the underground dungeons. Nor should any of the students for its warded grounds are populated by sinister wraiths and evil spirits and the Pthumerians are not so passive as we’ve formerly believed. It is dangerous down there. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         With that said, I will see whether I can be of use to you with research regarding the Great One’s ancient utterings. Indeed, I must confess for my own sake, that despite my aversions, I remain powerless to resist the pull of my curiosity. I have already undergone so much mental and bodily suffering that I should dread much this dreadful Meeting, which seems more and more evitable as I follow your path.  Oh! What a blessing disguised as a curse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         The work is tremendous and there is such an enormous lot of it to do that one book’s worth shoves the other out of one’s head. Our paper is scanty so torn notebook produces the material for this epistle. And you must pardon the brevity thereof.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         I must stop now, but we will hopefully see each other at the Ceremony.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>         Sincerely, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Caryll </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>         P.S. please offer my kindest regards to Rom and I shall be glad always to her that she is well.</em>
</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>      27th of May, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Today I went to the Rectorate looking for answers. I was able to sneak in Master Willem’s vault to look at the relevant records detailing past expeditions and their findings. I skimmed through every single one of them, but could not find much on the subjects of the odd chambers, nor what their uses were. While rich in details of the fiends that lurked underground and accounts of odd happenings, they lacked the insight I crave. Unfortunately, I was not able to approach Caryll either – when I asked Master Willem where they were, he told me that they were absence due to a family urgency. A dreadful coincidence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      However, in another stroke of good fortune, on the way out I overheard a conversation from the guards about where they kept the chalices used in the ritual – with these, we essentially have free access to the chambers below. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Getting inside is so simple…almost as if Master Willem expects us to just stroll in there in our free time? Ludicrous. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>      14th of June, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      The nightmares woke me up in the early morning and for a moment I blissfully forgot where I was and what had happened. The large chamber. The howls. The monsters. The blood. Me and my fellows entered the hall with reckless boldness and were punished severely as the fiends descended upon us. A student was torn apart, but their suffering showed us the Truth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      As I write, my thoughts are drawn to my nightmares in which a most disturbing, yet alluring sound calls to me. A sound defying description burying deep into my mind, carving a brand on my brain, a voice from the Cosmos. In that one instant that seemingly stretched into infinity the student did not die, but perhaps, and I earnestly hope so, they in fact Ascended—a creature with long limbs and a six-fingered hand grabbed their mangled body and within moments, the chamber was brought to complete stillness. The old Pthumerian guardians fell on the ground as if someone had cut the strings to their puppet limbs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      How has this escaped me? They were all dead, have been dead ever since their great civilization fell with nothing, but their corporal, mad husks left behind. And the answer has been right in front of us all along when it comes to how they maintain communication, so simple that I feel like a complete fool for missing it! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      To contact them we need not even learn the Great One’s speech! All we need is to deliver an offering! A vessel!</em>
</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>[Except from: Chapter IV, Section 1 of the anthology “Kingdom of the Fallen Gods”—Article on “Blood Rituals and Sacrificial Bounds”, from Pyotr, student and senior editor of the student’s newspaper “Byrgenwerth Mirror”, Byrgenwerth. 1836]</p><p> </p><p>      Sacrifice, a religious rite in which an object is offered to a divinity in order to establish, maintain, or restore a right relationship of a human being to the sacred order. The term has acquired a more popular and frequently secular use within our daily speech to describe some sort of renunciation or giving up of something valuable in order that something more valuable might be obtained, for example, when a parent makes sacrifices for their children, or when one sacrifices their own morals for the sake of social economics gain. But the original use of the term was peculiarly religious, referring to a cultic act in which objects and living beings were set apart or consecrated and offered to a god or some other supernatural power. Religion is man’s relation to that which he regards as sacred or holy. Worship is man’s reaction to his experience of the sacred power; it is a response in action, a giving of self, especially by devotion and service, to the transcendent reality upon which man feels himself dependent. Sacrifice and prayer—man’s personal attempt to communicate with the transcendent reality in word or in thought—are the fundamental acts of worship. In a sense, what is always offered in sacrifice is, in one form or another, life itself in its purest form, freed from its corporal form. Sacrifice is a celebration of life, a recognition of its divine and imperishable nature. In the sacrifice the consecrated life of an offering is liberated as a sacred potency that establishes a bond between those that sacrifice and the sacred power. Through sacrifice, life is returned to its divine source, regenerating the power or life of that source; life is fed by life.</p><p>      It is a complex phenomenon that has been found in the earliest known forms of worship and past signs of this practice can be best observed all over the world, including the ancient ruins of the Pthumerian civilization. When the sites of Lower Pthumerian Labyrinth were first excavated in 1761, scholars found parts of humanoid remains lied in large chambers amongst spears, swords, tools and other items meticulously placed down around deformed skulls. Judging by the intricate way the chamber was build and divine runes etched into the bones themselves, it can be safe to presume that this place was of significant importance and that those remains carried a special meaning.  </p><p>      This of course poses the question that people may have been selected for sacrifice, because they had been 'touched by the gods'. Early Phtumerians were simple guardians of the slumbering Great ones and the oldest of these keepers gained eternal, undead life in an ashen form as a result of a ceremony of flame, cremating both body and soul.</p><p>      But this is just one example out of many, and the most telling and prevalent practice of the Phtumerians’ sacrificial traditions are the large pools of blood found on the lower levels – a sacrifice of flesh and blood to appease the Great Ones? It would argue so.</p><p>      As previous stated, the ancient Phtumerians were simple guardians and it was their descendants who proclaimed a capital and a leader and as a result, there was a massive civil war in the labyrinths below us between those loyal to the old ways and those loyal to the Queen.</p><p>“When all is melted in blood, all is reborn.”</p><p>      We do not have much details about of that conflict and its conclusion, but we know that Phtumerians loyal to the Queen were sacrificed to become “one” in blood. The Queen would then drink this collected blood, along with the blood of a Great One, from a chalice and the concoction would impregnate her and she would theoretically give birth to a “special child” – the offspring of herself, the collected consciousness of those sacrificed can be reborn as an infant Great One and freed from their heretical ways (by the way, the use of blood is not uncommon throughout our history – the lands of Yharnam tell stories about an ancient order of knights known as the ‘Holy Blades’, who hunted Phtumerians and drank their blood in order to empower their own flesh. Their exploits can be seen in modern days as well, evident in the way bodies are hanged in the dungeons with their heads down so that they may drain the blood, it is highly possible that these warriors knew about the dangers of direct consumption of old blood and thus drank it in its more deluded form from the Phtumerians’).</p><p>      Often the act of sacrifice involves the destruction of the offering, but this destruction—whether by burning, slaughter, or whatever means—is not in itself the sacrifice. The killings are the means by which its consecrated life is “liberated” and thus made available to the deity, and the destruction of a blood offering in a chalice is the means by which the deity receives the offering. We have to remember that human sacrifice is not just a ritual act designed to appease the gods, divine the future, or bring luck and prosperity to those offering the sacrifice. It covers all situations in which a human life is exchanged for a greater cause. Even religious belief is not a necessary requirement; all that is needed is an earnest desire.</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>      Ever since Laurence’s inquiry, Caryll had troubled sleep. Not because of the dreadful thing they witnessed, and if anything Caryll had only themselves to blame – the rune he showed them ignited their restless curiosity like a wildfire and as a result, they threw themselves in headlong into their research.</p><p>      However, with that, so did the nightmarish visions begin – not just of Laurence’s monster, but also of other, foreign and terrifying shapes. Whenever they closed their eyes to focus on the soft vibrations of the ancient murmurings, they felt the perverse sensation of meddling fingers groping through their brain, followed by a migraine, as if something was trying to carve the inside of their skull. Usually, their teachings were discreet and tolerant, but now they grew more insistent, desperate to warn them of a looming thread.</p><p>      They were tempted to bring up the issue to Master Willem, but every time they opened their mouth to speak to him, they felt the same type of dread they did whenever he tried to pry into their mind for answers, which just reaffirmed their cautious lack of trust.</p><p>      Attempting to speak to Rom was impossible as well – she was so busy, they scarcely had the time to see each other, let alone talk. Caryll couldn’t talk to other students either, because they were not nearly as involved in the matter for them to trouble them. There was also Laurence, but they treated each other as barely more than strangers when passing by one another in the hallways or the dining hall. Approaching him to discuss things had been nearly impossible, because usually he surrounded by at least a dozen or so students.</p><p>      In a dreadful way, it reminded them of just how lonely they felt sometimes when there was nothing, but runes and incomprehensible mutterings that occupied their mind and heart.</p><p>…</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>      10th of October, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      During the holidays, I felt like I fled the world and all its worries, but now with renewed vigor, I must continue my work. Most of my fellows from the Lounge have adopted a more careful, stricter code of secrecy to carry out our operations while I was gone in order to avoid the newcomer’s mistakes we did last time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      As we drank our tea in the dining hall after the breakfast service was put away, we discussed about how to go about this – making a vessel is a delicate process of trial and error and we have yet to find the perfect base. Procuring old blood is also an issue in itself, because the only one with access to that is Master Willem. We must dig further into the dungeons.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>      4<sup>th</sup> of November, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      We’ve tried to expand our ranks and enlighten more to our cause, but if I may vent, dealing with these degenerates who dare call themselves my colleagues makes me ill. News of the disappearances have spread throughout Byrgenwerth and people only gossip about foul fiends and crude killers. I cannot believe the indignity. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      It is disheartening to admit it, but those who understand us will see the necessity of all this and those who oppose us deserve to be slaughtered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>      12<sup>th</sup> of November, 1836</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      I have fallen into a routine of sorts. The ritual is carried once a week, late at night. We use sedatives and then to carry a student to the sacrificial chamber and the rest is just mechanics.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Strip the man. Cut the flesh. Spill the viscera. I have found that fear and adrenaline seems to agitated the holy spirits in a way I haven’t seen before. Sickly scent of blood is intoxicating and the vague shapes that form above us blind my eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      The work is tremendous, but ritual after ritual, I can feel that we are getting closer and closer to a divine revelation.</em>
</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>      One night, Caryll could stand it no longer and so, finally having gathered gathering up courage to prompt them into action, they went to talk to Laurence. They knew the dorm master quite well and, trusting Caryll’s good behavior, finding his dorm room was not particularly difficult.</p><p>      They sighed deeply and knocked on the door gently and then waited, a small part of them hoping that Laurence was gone, but then they heard his voice telling them to wait, followed by the sound of footstep. The door opened and Laurence peeked through the cracks, eyes wide in surprise.  </p><p>“Good evening, Laurence. My apologies for disturbing you, but—” Caryll started, but then stopped themselves, when they saw the state he was – hair slightly damp, wearing only the thin shirt of his uniform and pants. All signs pointed to a recent shower. He blinked in confused and nodded at them, urging Caryll to continue and they only looked away, suddenly regretting attempting the whole ordeal. “Ah, never mind!”</p><p>      They immediately turn to leave, but a hand pulls them back. “Caryll! What is it?”</p><p>“It’s—It’s about the runes,” They blurted out and suddenly Laurence’s hold grew firmer. They turned to face him and saw that he there is a small smile on his lips and a hopeful shine in his eyes. “I wanted to ask you to accompany me to the chalice dungeons for I feel quite frightened to—”</p><p>“Oh,” He nodded emphatically. “Yes, of course. Just give me a few moments—wait here.” Laurence instructed gently, but with stern reassurance as he went back to his room.</p><p>      It took him perhaps less than five minutes to get himself dressed – short enough that Caryll was still so shocked by his open agreement and didn’t even think about backing out of it, by the time Laurence was outside again.</p><p>      Thus, the two departed into the night.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>amygdala: *cronch *cronch*<br/>I was going for “hehe a student cult sacrificing fellow student #just Byrgenwerth things” but also I was like @_@ why would they do that aside from being crackheads—oh right, patches made me remember. Now, I don’t think this is Valid Amygdala Worshipping Practice, because I have the firm stance that she Likes Rocks, shes a crystal bitch and Im stand by this but also like, shes very curious and the students are just offering them up although theyre kinda blooddrunk + we know that phtumerians sacrificed those they fought in that civil war so its jus, bad communication drama<br/>+ the idea of holy blades using phtumerian blood as medieval steroids is completely crackhead and I mostly go off it because theres a bunch of tomb prospector holy blades but also like, what do holy blades so??? </p><p>Im sorry for no rom and not a lot of action this chapter but I promise I’ll make up for it ssince this chapter is the intermission basically and I suck at writing those</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: not particularly graphic description of human remains and some minor headcannons about various character’s backgrounds</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>[<strong>INTELLECTUAL MURDERS?!</strong> Byrgenwerth scholars’ latest trial with morality (Yharnam. Thursday. December 1<sup>st</sup>. 1836). Yharnam Herald, newspaper.]</p><p> </p><p>“Have the scholars lost their minds alongside their heads?”</p><p>      THIS FALL, Byrgenwerth faces its biggest scandal yet as more and more patrons are reconsidering their support of the esteemed college due to concerns of the students’ safety in the wake up an alleged killing spree carried out within the college’s grounds. While Byrgenwerth is mostly self-governed, with little concern for Yharnam authority so Gods only know what happen inside its vaulted halls, benefactors of the institute are beginning to put pressure to the Rectorate for their lack of action and incompetence when it comes to curbing the rise of missing students.</p><p>      It is a well-known fact that many students meet their end for the sake of research and knowledge, deep within the underground ruins spawning beneath Yharnam and its surrounding, but when those numbers rise past a certain point one starts to wander, is incidental or is it murder committed by mad teachers, or perhaps even mad students?</p><p>      We have attempted to reach out Provost Willem for a statement, but have been met only with silence.</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>      Laurence has an obsessive nature. A burning curiosity and hunger for knowledge which felt like bugs crawling under his skin—a relentless restlessness tearing apart his mind. He could rarely find peace from it even at the dead of night. With his family aware of his scholarly interests, it was only a matter of time for him to get send to Byrgenwerth, where he was not only liberated to pursue his obsessions, but also allowed for him to shine among his peers. It was not a particularly difficult matter for Master Willem’s keen eyes to spot him and take on this youth as a protégé.</p><p>“Just a bit further ahead there is a clearing.” Laurence explained coolly as the two marched through the upper levels of the Central Pthumeru ruins. Caryll said that it was meant to be a short expedition of the first layer only, so the two didn’t bring much supplies – a few vials of medicinal blood, an old hand lantern and machete, which Laurence opted to carry, and a spear that Caryll was currently clutching with uneasiness.</p><p>“You speak as if you’ve been here numerous times before.” Despite the dreadfully empty tunnels, their paranoia renewed at every tiny sound and every quivering shadow, so they stuck closely behind Laurence.</p><p>      Laurence glanced back at them, didn’t lose pace regardless of Caryll’s odd caution. “Oh, no such thing. I’ve been here only once, but…” He stopped and pointed to the ground at one of the many intersections scattered amongst the twisting labyrinth. Caryll almost bumped into him in the darkness, but thankfully managed to stop themselves short of stepping into him. They immediately scurried back a step and studied ahead where Laurence’s lantern light reflected brightly off a coin.</p><p>“This is a bit excessive, don’t you think?” Caryll commented, when they realized that Laurence had been guiding himself by following coins left behind by previous expeditions. <em>A small tribute for passage, perhaps?</em> They thought almost comically.</p><p>      Laurence shrugged. “They have better use this way. You don’t need coins in death.”</p><p>“I’ve heard that in ancient times, people held a belief that you need to pay tribute in order to cross over to the world of the dead. So, they placed coins in or on the deceased’s mouth,” Laurence huffed in amusement and Caryll smiled sheepishly. “But I agree with you. I don’t think you would need coins in the afterlife.”</p><p>      The two continued walking in peaceful silence for a while. Caryll tried ignore the noise of dripping water and distant howls, instead focused on the soft sound of their footsteps and Laurence’s occasional thoughtful hum. The latter continued following a predetermined path towards the central parts of the layer, until his trail ended and from there Caryll forced themselves to take over.</p><p>“Why did you bring us to this level again?” Laurence asked at one point and Caryll felt thankful for the distraction to the quietness.</p><p>“It might sound careless of me, but I remember seeing a rune in here that might be related to yours and what it meant,” They said. The two still moved close to each other, Caryll being firm about them staying at least within view, so that someone doesn’t wanders off. “It’s called Communion and it looks like a—an arrows head, I suppose, if you happen to spot it.”</p><p>“Oh,” Laurence nodded. “I will keep a lookout for it then.”</p><p>“Indeed.” Caryll hummed in agreement and squinted their eyes at the stone path ahead. It had been some time since they were last here, but there were some noticeable changes to the dungeon. The paths were well-lid and many of the debris and old roots were cleared. It was cleaner somewhat - they hadn’t spotted a single monster or Pthumerian thus far.</p><p>“What are you thinking about?”</p><p>“I am wondering why it’s so peaceful around here,” Caryll answers plainly, while the two of them climb up the stairways within the large gallery they snuck into. “Not a single soul, when normally this place would be overflowing with terrifying beasts and mad Pthumerians.”</p><p>“Those beasts—what are they anyway?” Laurence asked as he studied the surrounding architecture with great interest. A few pillars had odd carvings, but nothing that could be considered a rune was etched into the stone.</p><p>“We don’t know much, but the Yharnamites’ belief that fire cleanses impurity originates from ancient times,” Caryll tries to recall. “Torches wards off most beasts and fire-paper is incredibly useful against them.” Laurence hums in acknowledgement, but does not ask further.</p><p>      The two ascended into a large balcony with two pathways on each side. Laurence wandered around for a bit, making sure he wasn’t far from sight, while Caryll stopped to rest and think. They dug through their brain for vague recollection of where to go and tried to ignore the way their nerves started to sing in alarm at the thought of descending any lower. </p><p>
  <em>Relax, Caryll. You’re not alone this time. It’s going to be fine.</em>
</p><p>      Meanwhile, their fellow student found a lever and without any further reservations pushed it back. There was the distant sound of some type of mechanism clicking, which shocked Caryll back to reality and they stared back at Laurence, whom still had his hands on the lever.</p><p>“What did you—” Caryll heard a pained moan echo and stilled with dread. Laurence looked at them with confusion.</p><p>“Caryll?” He stepped closer and Caryll shook their head.</p><p>“It’s—nothing. I must have misheard something.” They scoff and walked away, deciding to take the path in the <em>opposite</em> direction from where they heard something cold and distant call and beckon them, except that Laurence remained in place, eyes fixated at its source.</p><p>“No, I think I hear it too…” Laurence said, expression thoughtful and Caryll stomped back, only to tug him by his robe’s wide sleeve to move ahead. “I think we should investigate it.” He proposed, expression sheepish and before they could even react, he slipped out of Caryll’s grasp. They muttered a curse under their breath, as Laurence all but ran ahead, before Caryll could attempt to pull him back.</p><p>“No, wait—Laurence!” They sighed deeply, but ultimately followed after him with the spear firm in their grasp.</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>[The following text is an excerpt of documented accounts written by one of the guards accompanying the students, in addition to the battle records of that expedition, stored in the Byrgenwerth Achieves]</p><p> </p><p>         Layer 2, Central Pthumeru, 23 May 1836</p><p>      Accounts of the battle you will see in the papers, much better describing it than any I could give, as I could see nothing beyond what was going on in my own party of 3 students – Luka, Caryll and Iva, and 2 guards, myself and Mister Dimitur. That you will see was in the thickest of it, as the returns of our casualties will prove, our loss being very severe.</p><p>      The march from Pthumeru to Central Pthumeru was for the most part peaceful. Starting from 08:00 until about 09:30, when we had sightings of scurrying beasts only. The students were well behaved and did not attempt to chase after them.</p><p>      At about 10:03, we came all at once in our first sight of Pthumerians, in an entrenched camp beyond the starting antechamber, distant about three kilometers deep into the dungeon. Immediately we appeared, they noticed our presence and we were forced to dispatch of them.</p><p>      We continued advancing steadily, halting occasionally to rest the party, till half-past one, when we heard that the first shot of an accompanying party was fired, and soon after, we deployed into line, and stood so for about twenty minutes.</p><p>      At last we were ordered to advance, which we did for about 300 meters nearer the largest gallery, where we were meet with a remnant guard of a previous party. She was wounded and delirious, warning us about the great many ashen witches who were wandering the labyrinths.  </p><p>      It was decided that I should return to the surface with her for treatment, while Mister Dimitur attempted to regroup with a different party, and then after matters on the surface were settled, I would return to my group.</p><p>      I joined my party at about 4 in the morning, when I noticed that one of the students, Caryll, was missing. I immediately asked my fellows what happened to them, but they firmly claimed that Caryll was with them mere moments ago.</p><p>      We backtracked and called for them for about thirty minutes, before Mister Dimitur said that he will go deeper and look for them. We all agreed with his proposal, but alas it was a reckless decision as the report is evident, that we have not heard from him since and we presume him to be deceased.   </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>      A crudely carved, twisting stairway lead them down towards a peculiar chamber. There was the foul stench of rot thick in the air and Caryll felt their stomach twist into painful knots. They covered their nose with a sleeve in at least some attempt to ward off the putrid air.</p><p>“I think we should return.” They urged, while Laurence continued wandering into the large chamber with cautious steps – there was a small arena circled by pillars at the very center, where the clearing was neatly cleaned from weeds and shrubs most common inside the dungeons. The space was quiet, overlooked by carved pillars, with a solemn peace that contributes to the sense that this was hallowed ground. A few humanoid remains were lined deliberately next to teach other, while some others were prone, half-sitting, half-laying against the pillars.</p><p>“Well this is odd—where’s the guardian?” Laurence mumbled, so low that it might as well have been to himself. Caryll sighed and stepped forward as well, deciding to study the morbid scene themselves as well. The soil underneath their feet was muddy and slippery, there being the occasional puddle of thickened blood.</p><p>“This is quite odd indeed, but I don’t know why this—is like this.” <em>And it terrifies me</em>, but it went unsaid. Some things were better left unsaid.</p><p>      Either way, Laurence appeared too engrossed in his own conclusions to even listen to them. He crouched next to one of the lying corpses – it had an agonized expression on its face left frozen in eternity, with its jaw opened as if to scream. Laurence pulled a simple handkerchief out of his pant pocket and gently pinched one of the fingers with it.</p><p>“This thing, whatever it is,” Laurence pulled it lightly and it easily broke off in the middle, soft flesh loosely hanging to the rest of it. “It’s rotting.”</p><p>“Rot is brought from the outside,” Caryll hummed thoughtfully as they stepped closer to another corpse, propped up against the wall in a sitting position. They knelt down. It was left completely nude with its skin split and charred, leaving no distinguishing traits to tell what or who it was. However, the wounds appeared fresh. “Whatever happened here is recent.”</p><p>      They brought the hand lantern closer to its face to study it more when they noticed glassy eyes focused on them. Its mouth moved faintly, red flesh barely stretching around it, whether on instinct or to howl. Caryll immediately jumped and fell back with a whelp, dropping the lantern. Its glass cracked and the thing rolled away, but Caryll was too horrified to care.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Laurence immediately moved closer, tone concerned.</p><p>“Laurence,” Their voice was shaky and a chill ran down their spine. They swallowed hard. “That’s not a Pthumerian, that’s—”</p><p>“That’s a human,” Laurence observed clinically, and knelt down between Caryll and the body. He pressed his first and middle finger to the side of the neck, just under its jaw and tried to feel for pulse. He felt faint heartbeat come to a stop. “Dead.” He announced after a few moments of tense silence and Caryll deflated under the pressure, felt stressful tears gather at the edge of their eyes.</p><p>“To think that someone survived this long and in such a state—” They inhaled sharply and noticed that it came off as a sob. Laurence was still studying the now corpse with a stern look and Caryll eventually pushed themselves up on unsteady feet. They tried to look for the lantern again and tried to ignore just how many human skulls they found instead lined up neatly alongside the chamber’s walls.</p><p>“They all went through something similar,” Laurence concluded in the end and returned to Caryll. “There is something systematic—almost ritualistic in the way they were tortured and killed.”</p><p>“Do you think that—” Caryll’s words died in their throat when they heard the sound of echoing footsteps come closer.</p><p>“Yes,” Laurence says quietly. “And I think that whoever did all of this has come back.”</p><p>“What do we do?”</p><p>“Hide.”</p><p>      The two quickly shoved themselves behind a large pile of pots in the corner of the room. Next to them, there was another corpse and Caryll gagged, fought back against the urge to empty the content of their stomach. Noticing their distressed heaving, Laurence quickly pulled them closer into a tight embrace and let them lean against his chest, rest their head against his shoulder. Caryll shut their eyes firmly - a tear, then another fell down and was soaked up by Laurence’s robe.</p><p>“Shh,” Laurence murmurs softly and cradled them protectively, rocked them lightly and petted their head to calm them. “It’s going to be alright. Trust me, Caryll.” Caryll did not know where Laurence had this confidence from. This close, they could feel that despite his calm tone, Laurence’s heart was beating rapidly as well.</p><p>      A few moments of dreadful silence followed when they heard feet shuffle closer now, followed by the soft sounds of footsteps over wet soil. The group was discussing something in hushed tone, too low for Caryll to hear over the sound of their own panic. Laurence placed a hand on the back of their neck to steady them and held them tighter, whispered into their ear to not move.</p><p>“Master Willem has set a stricter curfew—if we don’t hurry up, we may miss our window of opportunity and render our work worthless.”</p><p>“What do you propose then? Do you think it’s easy to bring more students in here?”</p><p>“Calm down,” Said another. “No fighting. We’re in this together now, remember?”</p><p>“Regardless, she is right,” Added a fourth, more authoritarian tone. Judging by that, Caryll assumed it to be their leader. “We need to find a Great One faster, otherwise—”</p><p>“Whose is this?” A fifth one asked and Caryll felt Laurence grow rigid beneath them. There was a scuffle of feet and Caryll could not see what was happening, but they heard the sound of glass shards. “It’s a hand lantern?”</p><p>“It appears so.”</p><p>“Someone’s been here.” The authoritarian voice rattled close by now and Caryll shifted a bit. Their weapons were left behind one of the pillars and while it was a miracle they hadn’t seen those as well, the fact they were careless enough to leave behind evidence was folly enough to merit their suspicion. They glimpsed up to Laurence’s face, whose expression was that of deep thought.</p><p>“Well not like there’s many places left to hide in here.”</p><p>“Then find them!”</p><p>      Small as the chamber was, it didn’t take long to find them behind the pots. They were dragged out roughly and two students restrained them each from behind by hooking an arm under a shoulder and grabbing their wrist on each side in an unforgiving grip. While Laurence complied, Caryll tried to struggled against the hold, but with two against one, it was just pointless exertion.</p><p>      They were both pushed to move closer to the outer walls, where their leader was waiting with a lid torch in hand. Caryll had seen their leader before – he was their senior by one year and was quite known around the Lounge for his unorthodox views concerning the Pthumerian rituals and his easy-going, calm personality. <em>To think that he was capable of such a horrid thing—</em></p><p>      He grabs them by the chip and tilts their head up, so that Caryll has no choice, but to look at him.</p><p>“Ah, Caryll and—your little chaperon.” He glanced back at Laurence briefly before returning his attention back to Caryll. “I’ve always wanted to bring you into our fold, but alas you were forever unavailable. But now here you are and able to witness a more direct example of our achievements—What do you say?” He smiles and it appears almost sinister with the torch’s crinkling illumination.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Caryll tried to appear calm and defiant, but it was hard to ignore the nervous way they swallow at the end.</p><p>“Is it not obvious?” He says, gesturing to the writings etched into the wall. Crudely drawn runes of <em>Anti-Clockwise Metamorphosis, Clear Deep Sea</em> and <em>Heir</em>. The selection only confuses Caryll even more. “We seek audience with the Great Ones and are preparing a gift.”</p><p>“This—this is murder.” Caryll’s voice is grave and the leader only gives them a pitying look, releases them and turns to Laurence instead.</p><p>“What is your name?” Laurence doesn’t answer and just continues staring at him with a flat expression. That seemed to irk the leader slightly, because he grabs Laurence by the hair and pulls his head back roughly. “I asked about your name.”</p><p>      Laurence’s lips quivers into a momentary wince, but he quickly returns to impassively glaring down at the leader in blunt silence, until the latter let go of his hair with a disappointed look. Looking at Laurence, Caryll had never felt guiltier in their life for having dragged him into this mess and now he was in grave danger, all because of them and their reckless curiosity.</p><p>“Please stop this. This isn’t what the Great Ones want. They—they are benevolent in spirit,” Despite all odds, Caryll tried to reason with them. They couldn’t allow themselves to panic – they needed to keep calm and <em>think</em>. “You’ve spilled more than enough blood to appease the accursed spirits, but why anger them further?”</p><p>“Is that what the Great Ones’ murmurings say?” They hear a confused voice ask from behind them ask and Caryll nods immediately.</p><p>“Yes! They don’t wish for bloodshed, to communicate with them, we just need to—”</p><p>“Do you honestly believe that Great Ones can reason with <em>foolish brutes</em> like us?” There was poison underlying the leader’s tone, as he glares at Caryll with hostility now. “I thought you were at least one of the bright ones, Caryll, but I guess Master Willem has managed to brainwash you with his pacifistic believes as well.”</p><p>      Caryll squints at him in confusion. “No—if anything, Master Willem believes that one should completely separate themselves from humanity in body and soul, so that they may ascend. I believe communication between Great Ones is possible, if we just listen to their guidance in the form of runes,” They were rambling now, going on a scholarly tangent which was perhaps not the most fitting time considering their situation. “If you were to use old blood, certainly you can reach a transformation of <em>some kind</em>, but to try and use human sacrifice in order to entice them is foolishness. The Great Ones are not some brutish gods that require worship and sacrifice.”</p><p>      The chamber stilled in awkward silence and Caryll’s head shifted from face to face to gauge reaction – they realized they might have been a bit too open with criticism of their little cult’s ritual. Most of the students looked even more confused, while Laurence’s lips were curled upwards into a small, amused smile, but the group leader’s expression was severe. He appeared to be absolutely fuming.</p><p>“Do you honestly believe that our ways are wrong?” Somehow, he managed to maintain a calm tone. Caryll simply nodded their head slowly and he sighed deeply, shook his head. “I see—there is not much that can be done, but I shan’t despair. After all, someone with your insight might prove to be a viable vessel for offering. But before that—”</p><p>“Wait!” They yelled when he turned to Laurence and delivered a harsh blow to his abdomen.</p><p>      He groaned as wind was knocked out of his lungs and Laurence slumped in their hold, chest heaving. The students released him and he crumbled to the ground, eyes closed and cradling the injury, struggling to recover his breathing. He stayed like this for a few long moments, while Caryll watched in complete horror, unable to even say, let alone do anything to try and save Laurence.</p><p>“I guess he’s first then,” The leader grabbed Laurence by the forearm harshly and pulled him back up on his feet. However, Laurence stood up on his own and used the momentum from the pull to lean closer to him, his free hand reaching out towards the leader.</p><p>      Laurence’s expression was calm and impassive, but Caryll saw that there was something deep and dark in his eyes and only until much later on did that they realized, that Laurence was only pretending to be injured and that look in his eyes was that of cold <em>fury</em>.</p><p>      In the darkness, they saw something shift inside his sleeve. Then, there was an explosion of light and long, pale tentacles erupted seemingly out of nowhere, tearing through flesh and cloth. There was a pained howl and something red and mushy fell on the ground - with great horror Caryll realized that the augur tore off the leader’s hand.</p><p>“What is that—” Another student screeched. Laurence appeared momentarily stunned, but quickly recovered enough to pull the augur back and put it in his robe’s pocket. The students were too shocked by the display to move and with their grip weakened, it was easy enough to shake free. The two of them escaped and ran, headed deeper into the dungeon.  </p><p>      Having recovered from their initial shock, three of the students followed as well – Caryll could hear their loud steps over their labored breathing, but by the time they reached them, Caryll and Laurence were already at the elevator leading towards the lower level. They stepped on the moving plate and with a soft creek, the ancient mechanism moved and their platform descended.</p><p>      Finally, alone and in peace, Caryll could take a moment to catch their breath.</p><p>“That’s—That was an augur!” They exclaimed once the platform stopped moving at the lower level and Laurence simply nods. They walked a bit further in where Laurence finally leans against the wall in exhaustion, breathing labored.</p><p>“Why do you think I was allowed in Lower Loran?” His smile was just a bit smug, but Caryll can’t get angry at him. It was reckless and dangerous, but ultimately they were safe for now and that brought them immense relief.</p><p>“Laurence…your nose is bleeding.” Caryll only says with mild worry. Laurence blinks in realization and hastily wipes his nose with the back of his hand and then peeks into his sleeve, where the augur had returned to sleep, having used up all of its strength.</p><p>“I had to feed it my own blood,” He explains tersely. Having exhausted the adrenaline in his system, his head felt light and his feet wobbly. Caryll catches him just before he falls and helps him sit down on the ground, where he breathes deeply and tries to recover. They stand like this for a while, until Laurence’s breathing evens out and he hums thoughtfully. “It seems they don’t intend to follow us.”</p><p>      Caryll swallows nervously. “They are too afraid of the Old Keepers.”</p><p>“The—what?”</p><p>“The Old Keepers.” Caryll repeats and face turns completely blank as they remembered. <em>The ash. The long, thin blades. The creeping silence. </em>“They…captured me last time I was send here by Master Willem. They kept me down here for three days— I don’t really remember what happened or what they did to me…But Master Willem didn’t send help to find me.”</p><p>“Oh,” Laurence said then blinked, realization downing on him. “Oh! I see—so that’s been,” He gestured with his hand towards them. “The whole ordeal.”</p><p>      Caryll nods solemnly. “I was rescued by Gehrman and the old guard—They were the ones who refused to give up on me.” Laurence doesn’t say anything and for a few long moments there is silence between them, until Caryll smiled sheepishly and comments. “That was some quick reaction from you thought.”</p><p>“About two years ago, my uncle taught me how to hunt,” Laurence explained, tone even. “Although, I did not expect to have to use this knowledge against <em>fellow students</em>. Perhaps I should have brought a gun, through.”</p><p>      He answered drily and the two stared at each other in silence for a moment, before Caryll burst out in laughter and Laurence’s lips twitched slightly. He didn’t find it <em>that</em> amusing.</p><p>“Do you think we have a chance to fight against them?” Caryll asked eventually, despite fear of hearing the answer they knew deep down – even with their leader injured, it was still five against two, and they were most likely waiting in ambush for them on the level above. Down here, there was no path, except for going deeper into the dungeon, where no doubt beasts and mad Phtumerians would kill them.  They were effectively trapped and alone, with no means of defense and—<em>it is all my damn fault.</em></p><p>      Laurence doesn’t answer them and instead just shrugs. “We’ll figure out something.”</p><p>“We should have told someone—I should have informed Master Willem.” They voice breaks a bit at the end, Laurence pretends he doesn’t hear it.</p><p>“We would have been long dead by the time Master Willem even knew what was going on.” Laurence said flatly. Caryll nodded – they knew that he was right—that indeed, even if they were in danger, it would be too long before Master Willem could react properly and save them. It was partially why going into dungeons required big groups and again, it was <em>their own carelessness that led them into this mess. </em></p><p>“Caryll,” Laurence calls them and they realized that they were panicking again. “It’s going to be fine, trust me.”</p><p>“How can you be so certain?” Caryll says and hates how pathetic their voice sounds. “How can you be so stoic—so <em>casual</em> about all of this?”</p><p>      Laurence pauses and thinks before answering. “Sickness runs in my family. When I was ten, I was severely ill for two weeks. Most doctors presumed that I won’t survive past the fever and had given up—well regardless, here I am alive and healthy,” He explains calm—detached. “I mean, I <em>am</em> mildly worried about our odds of getting out of here alive, but panicking needlessly about it useless. I led us down here, because I knew the risks of getting caught were more severe, than whatever lurks down here, since as long as we’re alive, we can think of—some solution.”</p><p>      Caryll deflated under their worry – they didn’t think Laurence was that philosophical, nor they think that it would work, but his tone was convincing enough for them forget their worries even if momentarily.</p><p>“Our minds are weak, bodies frail, but our will is resilient,” He continued, now talking with conviction. “Therefore, we should focus on what’s head more than anything.”</p><p>      Caryll was left speechless, which is why perhaps this was the first thing they blurted out. “That reckless.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Laurence huffs, amused. “But as a result of my reckless, we are still here, so in this regard, I am correct.”</p><p>“This time.” Caryll bits their lower lips. It was clear that Laurence was very capable—capable of holding immense power and responsibilities, but he was also impetuous and prideful, and Master Willem often warned against rash foolishness.</p><p>“Yes.” Laurence nodded, a small frown settling on his face.</p><p>“But what if you make a mistake—”</p><p>“Then I will take a responsibility and correct it.”</p><p>“But what if that mistake is too severe to fix?” Laurence squints at them in confusion and Caryll continues. “What if your recklessness ruins others, not just yourself? What if—it’s a mistake so grave that there’s no way to fix it and no way to turn back time?”</p><p>      His frown only deepens. “I will take care of things, if I were to ever get there.” And looks away—suddenly uncertain and that terrified Caryll, because someone who possessed such firm conviction was also someone who would lead himself and others to their doom.</p><p>      They two of them stay in tense silence for a while, avoiding each other’s gaze until Caryll relents.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” They stammered, deeply aware of the fact that they were currently too fragile and raw to withstand Laurence’s treatment if it were to turn cold. “I did not mean to corner you, I just—” Caryll mumbles, but the words die in their throat.</p><p>      Laurence sighs and shakes his head. “You needn’t apologize. I understand that you were trying to—warn me…Thank you.” He says tersely and stands up.</p><p>      Caryll stood up as well and nodded. “Where to now?”</p><p>“There should be a stairway leading to the levels above somewhere around here. Let’s go.” He was already walking by the time he finished his sentence.</p><p>“Of course.” Caryll says simply and follows closely behind him.</p><p> </p><p>      They two of them traverse through the dark, twisting hallways until Laurence stopped for a moment, head tilting to the right and then left.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Nothing,” He assures and continues forward. They walk for about another hundred meters, when Laurence stops again. “Do you hear that?” He turns to Caryll now and they blink at him curiously. “I can hear—Bells. The sound of ringing bells.”</p><p>“Laurence?” They couldn’t hear it and watch the way Laurence grimaces, clearly confused.</p><p>      They continue forward, walking for a while until Laurence stops again and sighs deeply, voice shaky. “Are you sure you don’t heart it now? It’s so loud.” They shake their head. “Gods, its—It’s as loud as the Grand Cathedral bells.” He closes his eyes and winces in pain, puts a hand on his forehead in an effort to ease the migraine.</p><p> “No, I can’t hear anything, but ourselves.” And the near-constant, distant sounds of water. <em>Splish, splash, splish, splash.</em></p><p>      However, Laurence’s insistence was concerning. They step in front of him and grab his wrist to pull him forward, so that they can see his eyes and whether he’s awake. His eyes appeared normal, except for the exhaustion, but—</p><p>      Laurence pulled himself away before they could take a closer look. He looks at them as if they were mad.</p><p>“It’s fine—lets continue.” He exhales sharply and turns, continues walking forward, the pitying look Caryll was giving him.</p><p>“Do you still hear the sound of bells?” They asked at one point and watched the way Laurence’s shoulders grew tense.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>      At one point, they heard something moan softly in the distance. Caryll stopped themselves to try and hear better. They could sense some type of presence above them, but it terrified them to think, let alone try looking up. They close their eyes and count to ten, only to look up then and see that there was absolutely nothing above them.</p><p>      However, their relief was momentary.</p><p>“Laurence?”</p><p>      Caryll turned around and realized that they were alone now.</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>[Excerpts from: “Training Manual for Guards”, a pamphlet issued to each student who participates in Byrgenwerth’s expeditions of the underground depths, issue XXVI, circa 1823]</p><p> </p><p>         Overview and Summary</p><p>--------Arsenal &amp; Attire;</p><p>Heavy armor and thick leathers make no difference against beastly claws and attacks of Arcane origin, so one must wear light and flexible clothing. Often times medical care must be administered impromptu inside the dungeon itself and it should be done by a fellow guard who must take great care to administer the medicinal blood in small doses, so that one does not develop an addiction.</p><p>--------Common Etiquette;</p><p>One is to be cordial and polite with the fellow man. Open hostility towards one another is reason enough to pause the expedition and return to the surface, until the matter of disagreement is settled. If the offending party does that concede, then a punishment may be decided based on Section VII, Part 3 of the <em>Expedition’s Code</em>.</p><p>Students are to be treated with great patience and care, because they are young and weak, minds rash. It will not be uncommon for them to wander off and it is of utmost important to bring them back, even if by force. If a student proves to be unreasonably irrational, then they are be returned to the surface immediately with a report issued to the Medical Personnel, where they may be given proper care.</p><p>--------Weapon Upkeep;</p><p>Weapons are to be stored at the Guardhouse. They are to be cleaned and tested every night before the expedition to ensure that they functioning proper and responsive. If one is running low on bullets, they may use blood to make their own, but must take care to not do so in excess and risk lightheadedness.</p><p>--------Insight;</p><p>If one is to sense irregularities, or a student reports irregularities or you suspect a student is experiencing them, one must immediately report to the Provost. Irregularities are considered things such as persistent sounds, odd sights of flickering lights and so forth. These irregularities assault one’s senses until the sufferer is overwhelmed to the point that they might lose contact with reality. </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>      They stumble on their feet as they wander alone in the dark corridors with no sounds around them, except for the rapid thumping of their heartbeat. Walking was hard – their feet felt heavy, as if they were traversing through a swamp.</p><p>“Laurence?” Their voice echoed in the empty hallways without answer. “Laurence!”</p><p>      Again, no answer and they tried to recall an old guidebook they read about the dungeon’s exploration as a way to distract and calm themselves from their panicked breathing.</p><p><em>Don’t test the darkness. Ignore every sound, unless its human. </em>They shut their eyes firmly and leaned against the cold stone interior for a few long moments until their chest calmed and suddenly it was easier to think.</p><p><em>I need to find Laurence. I can’t leave him alone. </em>It was easier to focus on Laurence’s peril as opposed to their own and they quickly derived a plan as to how to proceed – the dungeons were dark, but their eyes had long adjusted to the pale illumination coming from the overhead chandeliers. They could smell incense, which meant that beasts were warded off this level and they weren’t deep enough yet, so most of the Phtumerians they would encounter were passive enough to sneak past them or run. As for the Old Keepers—they only hoped that Laurence hadn’t ran into them.</p><p>      They pushed forward despite their own fear.</p><p> </p><p>      Distantly, they heard the sounds of crying and approached with caution.</p><p>      Time seemingly grinds to a stop when they saw something pale and white in the distance – there was a woman wandering in the middle of the long, narrow hallway, approaching as if floating like a phantom.</p><p>      The ghostly woman wore a long, white dress. Her belly was swollen and her hands were chained. With shock, Caryll realized that <em>she</em> was the one weeping.</p><p>“What…?” Caryll remained frozen in place as the woman came closer and they realized that she was in fact, a Pthumerian, but she didn’t appear to be hostile – her gaze was pointed downwards as she walked and wept, perhaps oblivious to the fact that they were even there.</p><p>
  <em>What is this?</em>
</p><p>      Once near, the woman finally looked up to them—staring at them. Her hollow features twisted into a lovely smile and Caryll screamed.</p><p>…</p><p>[Excerpt from: Regulations for the Medical Department of Byrgenwerth’s Expedition Brigades. The text is from Part 4, Section II: Medical Examination of Recruits and Those Re-engaged, page 60-63.]</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Section II. – Medical Examination of Recruits and Those Re-engaged.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I. - Inspection of Recruits</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>II. - General Examination of Recruits</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>III. - Special Examination</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>IV. - General instructions</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>I. - Inspection of Recruits</strong>
</p><p><strong>345.</strong> In the Inspection of Recruits, Medical Personnel, must be guided by their judgement and experience in rejecting those who do not possess the physical capacity requisite for endurance of the toil, hardship and exposure, incidental to known dungeons: Pthumeru, the Hintertombs, Loran and Isz.</p><p><strong>346.</strong> There principal points to be attended are: —</p><p>a. That the recruit is sufficiently intelligent and capable of weighting the dangers of continued exposure to the underground ruins.</p><p>b. That their vision and hearing is sufficiently good so that they may not only be alert to incoming danger, but also enable them to see clearly at the requirement distance in order to record their findings.</p><p>c. That they are not ruptured.</p><p>d. That there is free and perfect control of all the joints, whether organic or not.</p><p>e. That the recruit is sufficiently trained and capable of handling weapons and firearms.</p><p>f. That their skull is without swelling or deformities. Their eyes should be clear and healthy.</p><p><strong>347</strong>. Great care is to be taken in ascertaining the mental capacity of recruits. Only those of sound and stable minds are permitted.</p><p><strong>348.</strong> Recruits presenting any of the following conditions will be rejected: —scrofula; phthisis; impaired constitution; defective intelligence; defects of vision or hearing; abnormally enlarged limbs; hernia; hemorrhoids; murky eyes with raptured pupils; varicose veins beyond a limited extend or marked varicocele with testicle unusually pendant; inveterate cutaneous disease; chronic ulcers; traces of corporal punishment, or evidence of having been marked with the letters and numbers of prisoners; contracted or deformed chest; abnormal curvature of spine; or any other disease or physical defects calculated to unfit them for the duties of an explorer.</p><p><strong>348a</strong>. Unless special permission is given by the Provost, kin to Cainhurst are not permitted as Recruits no matter whether their relation is close or distant.</p><p>[….]</p><p>
  <strong>IV. - General instructions</strong>
</p><p><strong>374.</strong> The approving Officer is responsible for the measurements of recruits as regards to their age, physical and mental fit in accordance with the schedule given in General Orders from time to time.</p><p><strong>375.</strong> The approving Officer will enter (in pencil) on the left hand corner of the Attestation, 2<sup>nd</sup> page, the measurements made by them and their opinion of the Recruit, in order to assist the approving Medical Officer in forming a judgement: but the Medical Officer is not held responsible for any ultimate rejection or for any decision contrary to the opinion given by the approving Officer.</p><p><strong>376</strong>. When a Recruit is considered physically unfit for re-engagement, the Medical Officer will draw up a medical report of the case on the re-engagement schedule, according to the instruction on the 4<sup>th</sup> page of the Form; opinions of the approving Officer will also be record on the same page.</p><p><strong>377</strong>. In doubtful cases, the Recruit may be allowed to appear before a medical board, which consists of the approving Officer, the Medical Officer and two professors, with a view to a decision being arrived at as to their fitness or unfitness to re-engage. In special cases of extreme controversy, the Provost may also be called for an opinion.</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>      Deep into the third layer was where they saw Caryll seated on rotten roots, leaning against the base of a twisting tree. Their face was paler and more subdued than usual. There was a strange expression on their futures – not much of anything, there was no hesitation, much less fear, but a complete absence of human characteristics—There was a cold and almost vacant expression in their gaze, in all of their mannerism that were in sharp contrast with their character of stalwart worry and concern. They sat perfectly motionless, buried in deep thought.</p><p>      Rom gasped when she saw them and her expression immediately turned to one of great worry. She ran ahead, regardless of Gehrman’s warning, and knelt right in front of them.</p><p>“Caryll,” She called them urgently, but received no answer. Regardless, she did not give up and instead put both hands on each side of their face. Her warm fingers burned against cold cheeks, as she called for them again and again, trying to peer into their eyes and saw that there was nothing wrong on the outside, <em>but—</em> “Wake up, don’t go further into the Nightmare.” She warned.</p><p>      She shook them by the shoulder gently with their head only lulling slightly, but otherwise their body remained prone. Once or twice, their eyes darted between the trio’s faces, still unfocused, and then they glared fixatedly into the distant corner, as if they saw something more in their uncertain outlines.</p><p>      Suddenly they spoke, in a horse and altered voice. “This is strange,” They said, “Very strange. Neither of you should be here, yet here you are. Can you also see her?” The pointed towards nothingness.</p><p>“Caryll listen to me, you’re not in the Nightmare.”</p><p>“Haha, don’t be silly, Rom!” They exclaimed, gazing on vacantly. “I can see the lake—the moon—ugh the bright light hurts my eyes.” They reached out to rub their eye, until they teared up. Rom immediately turned to Gehrman and gestured for him to give her the flask of water.</p><p>“Apologies, Caryll.” She only muttered before splashing the content of the flask onto Caryll and that seemed to shock them back to reality. They gasped and coughed, shivering at the frigid coldness inside the dungeon now that their face and neckline were soaked.</p><p>“Rom, what are you—” They whined, only to freeze when they realized that they were located deep underground, instead of that lucid lake. Before the panic could set in fully, Rom reached out and hugged them tightly. They sagged into her hold. “Master Willem, I—”</p><p>“Sssh, shh, it’s alright, Caryll,” Rom rocked them gently until their heaving stopped. “You’re safe now. Look it’s me, Gehrman and Laurence are here as well.”</p><p>      Behind her stood Laurence and Gehrman. Laurence appeared a bit more battered than Caryll last saw him, while Gehrman looked the as he always did – perpetually scowling, but out of honest and good will.</p><p>“You all…” The realization that that they were safe and <em>not alone</em> made them want to weep in gratitude. The three of them had returned for them—returned to this hell to <em>save them</em>. “Rom—How did, how did you know?”</p><p>      She only smiles softly. “Oh, Caryll. I’m not a fool and know where to look when I didn’t find you in your dorm room late at night.”</p><p>“She told me you were getting yourself in no good again,” Gehrman added curtly. “We went to contact the guards.”</p><p>“They trust Gehrman, so convincing them wasn’t particularly difficult.” Rom added.</p><p>“I’m sorry for causing you all problems,” They looked up to them—all of them, Rom, Gehrman and Laurence with deep sorrow. “It was reckless of me to just march in here—and I risked not myself, but also endangered Laurence’s life.”</p><p>“It’s fine, Caryll. The decision was mine.” Laurence reassured them, tone calm and unjudging. “I’m just glad I managed to <em>bump</em> into them and not anything else, so that we could go back and look for you.”</p><p>“Almost broke the lad’s arm for his troubles.” Gehrman commented drily and Laurence’s lips thin as he smiles.</p><p>“I apologize for jumping at you. I hope you understand that I was frightened by the sudden movement and presumed you were one of the murderers.” He turns to Gehrman and says so, not sounding apologetic at all, while Gehrman acts as if nothing happened.</p><p>      Finally, he comments. “I am regretful to have hurt you, but don’t just jump at me like that. I thought you were a beast.”</p><p>“Boys, behave.” Rom rolled her eyes and ignored the way Laurence clicked his tongue, clearly wanting to, but thankfully giving up the argument. Caryll stares at them both in blank confusion for a long moment before remembering about the other students.</p><p>“The students! What happened to them?”</p><p>“They’re gone,” Rom says and releases them. Her expression was thoughtful and she hesitates for a moment before ultimately deciding to tell them. “The other hunters chased after them, but they went deeper into the dungeon.”</p><p>“The Old Keepers, they—”</p><p>“The search will continue, but you know best just how dangerous gets the deeper you go,” Gehrman tells them, and then huffs. “I came here just to look for you, through.”</p><p>      Laurence watches the scene between them with cautious curiosity until Caryll’s eyes fixate on him and he looks away in guilt – and so does Caryll. At the back of their head, they put the obligation to apologize to him properly as soon as possible.</p><p>“Can you move?” Rom asks them and Caryll shook their head. Their feet felt too raw and exhausted to make it the trek back and they bit their lip nervously, considered telling them to just move on without them, but the words did not come out.</p><p>“We can carry you back.” Said Gehrman. Caryll just looks at him and then gasps when they saw Gehrman walk towards them.</p><p>“You really needn’t!”</p><p>“I can help—”</p><p>“I’ll do it.” Gehrman interrupts Laurence bluntly and lowered himself. Rom helps them adjust and Caryll wraps their arms around Gehrman’s chest loosely, until he stands up on his feet and they sag, clinging to him now. Caryll felt quite embarrassed – for being carried like this, but also for having Gehrman save them <em>again</em>. And just like last time, Gehrman was patient, but silent.</p><p>“You, help me.” Gehrman gestures towards his cleaver and bag on the stone ground. Laurence nodded and the youth complied.</p><p>      Rom led ahead, while Laurence walked beside them, carrying Gehrman’s things and occasionally giving Caryll an apologetic look whenever their eyes met. The way back was uneventful to the point of it being peaceful – no threads to ambush them, with Rom and Gehrman familiar with the labyrinth well enough that there was no real worry about them getting lost. Exhausted by the whole night, Caryll closed their eyes at some point and while listening to the soft sounds of their companions’ footsteps, they doze off.</p><p> </p><p>      It was early morning outside by the time they made it out of the dungeons.</p><p>“The sunrise!” Exclaimed Rom.</p><p>      The three of them stared out at the morning sky. Distantly, dawn blurred mellow blues, pinks and orange into a gradient over soft grey clouds – the long night had ended and coming out of that dreadful, dark dungeon, the scene above them was beautiful.</p><p>      Laurence looked down and heaved a sigh of relief. He knew that there was something else tugging at the perimeter of his brain, but exhaustion was keeping it a secret, and as the tiredness settled in, his posture sags with fatigue. His mind was beginning to dim, until he remembered and tried to power through the alluring pull of darkness, before he forgot the thought again—<em>That rune and the sights below. </em>The distant, phantom sound of bells compelled him to awaken and with muted horror he realized that Gehrman was speaking to him.</p><p>“You look like shit.” Gehrman glances at him briefly before adjusting the sleeping Caryll on his back gently. Laurence rubs his eyes and mumbles something, then half-walks, half-jogs closer to the group.</p><p>“Feel like it too.”</p><p>“Do you want me to carry you?” Rom smiled at him, tone oddly eager.</p><p>      The denial came quick. “No, thank you.”</p><p>      It was only a short walk through the forest back to Byrgenwerth from the site used for the Chalice rituals, but at one point Rom stopped dead in her tracks, having suddenly remembered something.</p><p>“Laurence,” She turns to him and coos, smile widening as she extends her open hands towards him and gestures. Laurence stares blankly at her for the longest time until he eventually just rolls his eyes and scoffs in exasperation. He carefully pulled out the sleeping augur from his robe’s pocket and placed it in her hands. Rom pulled back as she cuddled it, expression softening. “Good work, little one. I am proud of you.” The tiny slug-like creature remained unmoving in her grasp and she just gave it a pitying look before tucking it in her own robe’s pocket.</p><p>      The younger students looks away, clearly annoyed at having to return it and Gehrman huffs in dry amusement. “Not like you can take care of it,” He chuckles. “The thing will starve if you had kept it.”</p><p>“I understand.” Laurence answers flatly.</p><p>“Cheer up!” Rom reassures him. “I am certain that in a year, Master Willem will give you your own—oh speaking of which! You have about one hour to clean up before Master Willem expects you to report in his office.”</p><p>      Laurence rolls his eyes and sighs. “Of course.”</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>“Did you perhaps, hear or see anything?”</p><p>      There was a pause. “No,” He lies firmly. “But Caryll has and it frightened them.”</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>      Caryll wakes up late into the afternoon in Byrgenwerth’s infirmary with a headache that felt like it was about to split their head open, spilling the content of their brains onto the white sheets. They sit up despite the pulsating pain in their temple and almost immediately notice the small note with neat handwriting left on their bedside table.</p><p>“REST. IF I CATCH YOU OUTSIDE OF BED, IM GOING TO BUILD A BONFIRE WITH YOUR TEXTBOOKS. – Rom”</p><p>      They opt to comply and lie down, head plopping on their pillow as they try to recall the previous night. The events still felt hazy and distant, as if they were watching another person do the actions they did and say the things they said – the murderers were found, them and Laurence running deeper into the dungeon to escape, getting separated, the woman in white, the foreign utterings, the lucid lake—Their chest heaves in fear at the recollection of wandering in complete nothingness for the longest time, until light and sound overwhelm their senses—and they do not remember anything further.</p><p>      Caryll close their eyes shut and try to will away the horrid image, threatening to invade and pollute their mind like oil spills into a clear water.  Their consciousness slips and they retreat into a pleasant dream of recalling some dear childhood memories of themselves at the seaside—the sounds of wave around them and the warm sun above them.</p><p> </p><p>      They awaken later than evening and their dry mouth felt like sandpaper. Caryll had no appetite and their body felt heavy and lethargic from too much sleep, but regardless of the struggle they attempted to sit up and reached out for the cup and pitcher placed on the bedside table. They drank water ravenously and only stopped themselves when they almost chocked. Coughing they set the cup back and leaned against their pillows.</p><p>      It was dark outside and room was covered in a soft, warm glow from the dusty chandeliers hanging from above. The infirmary itself was small and consisted of tall cabinets lining the inner walls and a few ornate canopy beds with thick curtains that could completely enclose the bed were used for warmth and privacy, as the infirmary was just a large, open room. Caryll looked around and saw that it appeared to be empty, except for the faint silhouette of a lying student next to their bed.</p><p>      They opted not to disturb them and instead reached out for one of the books left on the bedside table—they had little doubt that it was left by Rom as a way to for them to occupy themselves.</p><p>      About forty pages into their reading session, they heard the bed next to theirs creek as the figure rose and Caryll tried not to pry, focused back on their book. However, the creaking did not stop as the figure tossed and in turned and looked around behind the curtains until it slipped out of the bed and moved closer to theirs. The figure pulled the curtains back and Caryll was almost spooked out of their skin when they heard a voice.</p><p>“Hello there,” An unknown youth said and Caryll turned to him – he had wild eyes and short, tousled black hair. Caryll did not recognize him, nor did he look old enough to be a third-year or higher, so perhaps another first-year student? <em>Why were all the first-year students so odd this year?</em> “My apologies for the disturbance, but—oh my!” He gasped immediately upon recognizing them, eyes now glittering with excitement. “Caryll?” The youth gasped in shocked disbelief and practically spilled onto their bed, sitting at the edge. “Runesmith Caryll?”</p><p>      Caryll scots away for room, until they lean against the bedpost, trapped. “Yes. Do I know you?”</p><p>“Ah, hah!” His grins grows wide. “Not only a gifted scholar, but a detective as well! I’ve heard much about your contribution to last night’s investigation!”</p><p>“Everyone—already knows?” They inhale sharply.</p><p>“In no small contribution by your little partner in crime!” He nods emphatically. “Laurence runs his mouth a lot and for once it was not just empty mummery—ah, but I forget myself and I apologize for my manners. My name is Micolash.”</p><p>      Micolash extends a hand and Caryll hesitantly grasps it. The handshake was firm, but not crushing and Micolash does not release their hand until Caryll shakes it off. He remains seated on their bed</p><p>“I have so much things I would wish to discuss with you.” He nods his head slowly, expression pleased and Caryll stills. <em>Not again.</em></p><p>“I would very much like to hear what you have to say,” They start to weave the polite excuse. “But I feel quite tired at present and do not know how sound my input would be—Perhaps another time?”</p><p>      Micolash blinks and nods, enthusiasm deflating just a bit, but not enough for it to really show. “Ah yes, of course, of course, I forget myself. Why yes, it would be a great joy to continue this conversation at some other time, under more agreeable circumstances…Well, with that, I wish you a pleasant rest.”</p><p>      He slides out of their bed and goes back to his own, where he lies down. Micolash remains so for a while and judging by the steady his silhouette falls and rises, Caryll assumed that he had fall asleep.</p><p> </p><p>      About one hour after what would have been dinner time, Master Willem finally visits them. Behind him, Caryll saw the flash of a Byrgenwerth uniform and realized that Laurence was accompanying him as well. His expression was composed and he appeared none worse for wear, except for the way the tired, dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced now, which suggests that Laurence hadn’t slept at all since the previous night’s events.</p><p>      Master Willem sits on the chair by their bed and for the longest time, the two stare at each other in silence.</p><p>“How are you feeling, Caryll?” He asks eventually, tone betraying nothing.</p><p>The tension eases off their shoulders somewhat. “I feel …better now.”</p><p>“Oh? I am glad there seems to be no long-lasting …injuries,” Master Willem says diplomatically and glances at Laurence. “He was very worried about you, you see.”</p><p>      Laurence nods and opens his mouth, eyes looking downwards. “My apologies for leaving you alone, I—wandered off and too late did I realize that I was alone.”</p><p>      Caryll blinks, surprised. “No, it’s –there is no need to apologize. If anything, I need to apologize to you again for dragging you into this horrid affair. It was my idea for us to go down there without supervisions.”</p><p>      Laurence just shakes his head. “Whatever grievings I suffered were of my own design and I do not blame you, Caryll.” He says firmly and Caryll feels that he is sincere.</p><p>      They sigh deeply. “Truthfully, I do not wish to think, let alone return to the dungeons below. It’s too much for me and my mind feels like its slipping deeper,” Caryll confessed. “My curiosity towards the Great One burns me, but I must stop—not just for myself, but those around me as well.”</p><p>“That is fine, Caryll.” Master Willem said after a long moment. He seemed content with just being a witness to their little exchange from earlier, but now he spoke with a careful tone. “In my message, I promise you to keep you safe and to ensure that whatever sufferings you went through would not repeat, but alas it seems that a firmer resolution is needed.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“It was …never my intention to hurt you Caryll.” Master Willem says and they huff.</p><p>“I am not upset about being kidnapped by the Old Keepers, Master Willem,” They tell him, tone tired. “I was mad at you for being alone—for abandoning me there.”</p><p>      He hums thoughtfully and then sighs. “We tried to look for your Caryll, but you know how dangerous it is—you <em>saw</em> that.”</p><p>“Yes,” They say solemnly – on a deeper level, Caryll recognized that it was somewhat unreasonable of them to expect to be saved in circumstances like that—but was that not why one must not venture into the dungeons? Or was it just their own inadequacy? It pained to admit either way, because forever will their endless curiosity about the Great Ones and their words tempt them to venture deep below, so that they may reach the Truth, their own safety and that of others be damned. “Which is why I need to stop before it is too late.”</p><p>      Master Willem leans back into his chairs and considers. “Is there nothing that would convince you of otherwise?”</p><p>“Nothing,” They state firmly. “It is—still possible for me to study the runes on the surface and besides, for so many years, those who sacrificed themselves for research are many, yet there has been so little breakthrough about the dungeons and their secrets. We’ve yet to find what made the Pthumerians so special. We don’t know the cause of the tragedy that struck Loran. We haven’t even the faintest of clue about what hides in Isz—and perhaps, the truth of what happened in those ancient ruins will forever allude us. But that is not the revelation we seek. Great Ones are benevolent and perhaps, the Truth we seek is not below—but above us.”</p><p>      Master Willem hums thoughtfully, but says nothing.</p><p>“If you teach me how to do it properly, I can transcribe runes for you research.” Laurence offers and Caryll just laughs at his eagerness.  </p><p>“I appreciate your offer, my friend…but is it too much of a risk.”</p><p>“I can decide whether to risk is too great for me myself,” There was just a hint of annoyance in his tone, but otherwise Laurence speaks calmly. “I do not intend to be a sacrificial pawn, Caryll—I would not endanger myself foolishly.” </p><p>“Caryll, consider his offer,” Master Willem adds. “Laurence was the one who approached me about Loran and he has proven himself quite capable of handling himself down there.”</p><p>      Caryll frowns and considers. Certainly with Laurence as their apprentice—<em>assistant</em>, they could continue their research and teaching him to write and read runic was not a complicated matter.</p><p>      While they were still mulling over Laurence’s offer, Micolash poked his head in between the bed’s curtains and the three of them just stared at him blankly.</p><p>“Master Willem, if I may be so bold to politely request that I too register for this extracurricular activity as well.”</p><p>“Micolash,” Master Willem looks at him as if he cannot fathom where he spawned from. “Why aren’t you in your dorm?”</p><p>“Caught the cold, Sir.”</p><p>      Caryll smiles weakly and touches their mouth in thought, entertains the idea. “I mean—two would be safer than one.”</p><p>      Laurence immediately objects. “Down there is very dangerous—”</p><p>“Of which I am fully aware and I would feel very much honored to be allowed to work alongside such esteemed colleagues!” Micolash interrupts him. Laurence glares a him, eyes sharp and piercing, while Micolash turns to Caryll with a borderline pleading expression. “I have already memorized most runes out there, so I am certain that I will take on your lessons in stride.”</p><p>      They ultimately relent. “Alright, alright. Let’s see how this arrangement fairs—to test it, if you will.”</p><p>      Master Willem’s lips twitch into a faint smile, while Micolash cheers and Laurence just sighs in exasperation.</p><p>“Well, in Hemwick, we say that those most fit to derive divine meanings, are also those most deprived of it!” Micolash says.</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Cathedral Ward, January 3<sup>rd</sup> 1837</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Master Willem,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>         I write this letter to you fully aware that you will likely receive it after we have seen each other in person, but in regards to your insistence that we keep this correspondence in confidence, I have decided that it is best to send this letter preemptively. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Truthfully, I would have preferred to remain at Byrgenwerth, but my Mother insisted that we spend the winter holidays with my cousins in Yharnam. This time wasted could have been used more productively, but it was not a complete loss, because I reached a significant revelation about my past inquiry regarding the tragedy that occurred in Loran. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         About a month ago, during that dreadful night spend with Caryll in the undergrounds, they shared with me knowledge about a peculiar rune called “Communion”, which might hold my answer. Unfortunately, in all the commotion that followed my quest was abandoned until just a few days ago when I stumbled upon something of interest. You see, my Uncle has the habit of buying old trinkets and while rummaging through his forgotten collection, I found a golden pendant wrapped in parchment. While there was nothing of note about the pendant, there was a symbol etched into the fabric used for its wrappings and with great surprise, I discovered a rune which I can claim with great confidence appears to be the Communion rune and while upon asking him, my Uncle could not recall much else about the relic nor its purchase, he has graciously allowed me to keep it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Meanwhile I think it would be advisable for now, to also avoid sharing this little discovery with Caryll as to not stress them further with this inquiry. Their expert assistance would certainly be required if any proceedings are to take place, and even if they should be means of averting such, or in aiding this, the expenses of obtaining it would be unfair if we only further tempt and push them away from seeking the truth, therefore we should only seek them out if our revelation proves to be profound.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         I will keep things brief and end the letter here. In addition to this, I have added a small parchment on which I have transcribed the rune itself for study, so that we may discuss things more when we meet. Until then I shall keep my eyes open and ears keen, should I come across any other findings.  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>         I Remain</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Yours most truly,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         Laurence </em>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>well that was long, </p><p>a few things of note<br/>- the starting newspaper article was originally meant to be an entire page w a lot of trivia informations and bits but technically issues I didnt want to mess up mobile users + I realized once I started to write it that predictably Im not a tabloid journalist<br/>- artistic liberties taken w queen Yharnam taking a stroll in central Pthumeru lol don’t think about it too deeply pls, and I know shes not technically a ghost, but I wanted to bank on her ghost-like appearance<br/>- I admit that the whole “murder mystery” segment isn’t particularly deep lol, that would require too much work and build-up when it was meant to be as a background aspect to morally crooked scholarly dealings (I do have a better fic planned w the series that goes into "investigation mysteries" as its focus tho<br/>- the golden pendant being vaguely related to the communion rune is complete bullshit I came up with as a way to explain the pendant becuz I forget it exists 90% of the time<br/>- speaking of laurence, yes he was too pissed off to compute during the hostage situation and pulled off a "call an ambulance, BUT NOT FOR ME"<br/>- the whole caryll plot is that basically they are not fit for exploration because of their connection to the eldritch truth being particularly strong, which is also why they take on a more passive role in life<br/>- what were caryll and laurence seeing? I go w the idea that because of chalice time shenanigans, caryll was seeing visions of rom lake, while laurence was seeing visions of hunter’s nightmare because whats more messed up that seeing your messed up future and ignoring in eldritch visions it<br/>- the guards are basically proto-hunters, I wanted to give them the same name but gehrman's "first hunter" moniker grinds my gears so if you see hunter, thats that<br/>- mico hemwick is a shared hc I found on twitter and I rly liked it</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it!!</p><p>this was actually pretty interesting to write since its my first time writing epistolary and it was ...a bit of a struggle, but a welcomed and my google spy bot is probably wondering what the hell is going on</p></blockquote></div></div>
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